


Those Who Have Dwelt In Darkness

by LadyBrooke, the_dragongirl



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Audio Format: Streaming, Community: pod_together, Gen, Podfic, Podfic Length: 0-10 Minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-02 18:10:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11514714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke, https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_dragongirl/pseuds/the_dragongirl
Summary: Narvi is hesitant to put his trust in others to make their weapons for the Final Battle.Aulë sees too many similarities to past events.





	Those Who Have Dwelt In Darkness

**Length:**

8 minutes, 58 seconds

**Music:**

"Lord of My Days" by The Orthodox Singers, from Basso Profundo from Old Russia

**Streaming:**

**Download (right click) and Mobile Streaming (left click), via Paraka Productions :**

[Here (MP3, 13 MB)](http://the-dragongirl.parakaproductions.com/podfic/LotR/Those%20Who%20Have%20Dwelt%20In%20Darkness%20by%20LadyBrooke.mp3)

Narvi waited after death, watching and waiting for news.

News came of Celebrimbor’s death, from dwarves who have forgotten that his friendship with Celebrimbor went deeper than a working relationship. News came from dwarves killed in battle with Sauron, who bring word of the fall of Sauron’s forces and elves passing through Khazad-dûm’s to safety. Kings came with word of Sauron’s death and return, and Khazad-dum’s fall and resurrection and the fate of the doors.

Narvi was still, but he was also plotting. When the rest had vanished to their families and friends, he returned to his rooms and began to work. Pounding metal into weapons was never his specialty, but he had nothing but time to learn now and space to store them.

The stockpile grew, spears and swords, arrows and axes, and other dwarves began to visit and make note of what he has made and what is left to make. Some of them chose a weapon, taking it with them and beginning to practice.

Mahal visited once. “What are you doing, Master Dwarf? Do you think these Halls are so dangerous that you must arm yourself and others?”

Narvi looked at him and laughed. “I am making weapons for the Final Battle, Lord, and you can help or you can leave. But not all of us will forget our friends because of their misdeeds.”

“They are weapons for elves, than.” Mahal picked one up, testing the balance.

“Aye, and weapons for Dwarves and Men and Hobbits, too, if they will take them,” Narvi said. “You may make choose to restrict your workings to what Manwë approves of, but I will not.”

Mahal nodded. “It is a dangerous choice to go against what Manwë wants.”

Narvi shrugged, picking up a knife to continue working on it. “It is a dangerous choice to obey what he wants too, when the choice is standing unarmed before the forces of Morgoth and hoping that Turambar slays him.”

“That is a belief of the Elves,” Mahal said, still looking at the weapons.

“Aye. Celebrimbor told me of it.” Narvi picked up the sword he was making for Celebrimbor, and held it out to Mahal. “You were close to his Grandfather, or so they say. What would he say about this?”

Mahal paused and looked at Narvi, before taking the sword and testing it. “I did not know Celebrimbor well. By the time he was born, Fëanáro was already pulling away from all of the Valar.”

“And what would Fëanor have thought of it?” Narvi waited silently as Mahal continued to look at the weapon.

“He would have been pleased that somebody else refused to trust fully in the Valar’s ability and choices.” Mahal laughed. “I suspect if he had lived long enough to see you all awaken, he would have been in your mountains trying to learn your language.”

Narvi smiled. “I suspect he would have been one of the few allowed to learn it. His son was allowed to.”

“And his grandson?” Mahal asked, still toying with the sword.

Narvi shrugged. “I am not sure why it would matter.”

“There are those among the Valar who view any association with my children as a sign that he is as flawed as his grandfather was,” Mahal said. “If he does know Khuzdul, it is unlikely to reflect well on him if Manwë judges him.”

Narvi paused in his work. He placed the knife on the table, allowing Mahal to see the inscription on the side was the name of Celebrimbor’s uncle. “I doubt knowing the language of dwarves would be the most damaging thing to his reputation, when it is already known that he was my friend. His family is far more likely to stand in his way come judgment.”

“You did not answer my question,” Mahal pointed out.

“Does it matter, my lord?” Narvi answered.

“Perhaps.” Mahal put down the sword he had been examining.  

Narvi picked the knife up again, and began carving the inscription deeper. “If you are asking on behalf of Manwë, you may inform him that I cannot speak on all that Celebrimbor knows, because I met my death centuries before Celebrimbor faced his.”

“And if I am not?” Mahal raised a brow.

“If you are asking because you feel some pity or concern the grandson of your old student, then you should know that the grandson of Fëanor would be disinclined to reveal everything he knew if it was to no benefit,” Narvi said. “Though I would suggest that they not be so loud in their feelings about dwarves.”

“Because of Celebrimbor?” Mahal asked.

“Nay.” Narvi carved a ruin deeper, and looked up. “Because the latest arrivals bring word that Gloin’s son is favored by Galadriel.”

“I do not follow your logic,” he said. “What effect would the feelings of Galadriel have on Celebrimbor’s fate or their feelings against Dwarves?”

Narvi smiled again, eyes glinting with remembered conversations. “Because I can remember the years when she dwelt in Eregion, before Sauron arrived and brought ruin. When she and Celebrimbor are on the same side, there is very little that can be done to disrupt their plans. If she has given her favor to Gloin’s son, she will not be inclined to hear ill spoken of all dwarves.”

“You speak of her and Celebrimbor being on the same side, Master Dwarf,” Mahal said. “But whose side are you on?”

Narvi put down the knife again, for the first time concentrating entirely on the conversation, instead of what else he could improve. “I am on the side that does not expect me to stop planning for the future, under the idea that because things are fine now, we do not need to be prepared for when that changes.”

“You speak the same as the Noldor did before the Darkness.”

“And can you truthfully say that they were wrong to fear what would come?” Narvi asked. “Or is it merely that the others cannot handle that those who have dwelt in darkness will not rest easily on the words of those who have not?”

Mahal nodded, but did not answer, before leaving the room.

Narvi returned to the weapons.


End file.
